


With a Bang

by Lafeae



Series: Puppyshipping [6]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Getting hot and bothered, M/M, Making Up, Mild Smut, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15009902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: Three weeks after what Joey isn’t sure to classify as a ‘break up’, he visits Kaiba’s office on Valentine’s Day in search of answers...but ends up getting a little more.Companion/sequel  to ‘But a Whimper’.





	With a Bang

**Author's Note:**

> Not terribly explicit, just enough to rate ‘M’.

The square, lavender box was the perfect size that it fix exactly nowhere on a bicycle with comfort. Joey had tried setting it in his lap, carrying it under one arm, and letting it sit on the length of the handlebars where it seesawed back and forth, held in an awkward pinch between his forearms.

Halfway down a steep incline that lead to downtown Domino, Joey made himself stop before the box toppled over, pulling up alongside a row of shops. He pried around the sides of taped down lid to be sure everything was still together inside.

Rain drops pattered on his head, one at a time, giving him just enough time to pull the bike over to the side of the building. He threw down the kickstand, the box shuffled underneath his jacket, and backed up against the window of the shop, beneath a thin awning. The rain intensified to a deafening hiss. Joey slipped into the shop door as someone else came out.

“Welcome!” A cheery salesgirl said. “Anything I can help you with?”

Joey looked back to the voice. “Nah, thanks. Jus’ gettin’ outta the rain,” he replied. He hadn’t even found the source of the voice, however, catching himself staring at one of the faceless, languid mannequins she stood beside, showing off an outfit that the store was trying to sell. A light blue button-up shirt which, in the right light, shimmered to a dark violet. A pair of black (“no, they’re charcoal grey” he heard Kaiba say in his ear) pinstriped slacks, creased as sharp as knives. One blink, and he could see intense blue-eyes staring down at him in place of the mannequin, gone by the next blink. “Actually...that uh, that shirt.”

And the salesgirl nearly tore his arm off to lead him over to the rack.

Twenty minutes of back and forth (and more money than he would think to spend on a shirt) later, he could add a paper bag with corded handles to the inventory of items that didn’t transport well on a bike. The box didn’t fit in it either; he’d tried.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, however, and that was enough to continue on his way. With a bag precariously hanging from the handle, and a box pressed under his arm, Joey used all of his of concentration to manuever through the crowded downtown streets and pull up to KaibaCorp tower without dumping everything onto pavement.

“Mr. Wheeler! I haven’t seen you in, like, three weeks!” The front desk receptionist beamed when he walked in.

“That long, huh?” Joey asked, scribbling his name on a sign-in sheet. The receptionist handed off a pass. She waved and giggled as he stepped up the elevator, using the pass to go up to the top floor.

The elevator ride had him biting at his lip, fingers drumming on the box.

Three weeks. It had been that long, hadn’t it? Joey hadn’t really thought about how much of a habit it was for him to drop by Kaiba’s office until he stopped. He must have been showing up every two or three days after a while, and Kaiba always had him show up there before they went to dinner, too. To Joey, it was the logical conclusion that the place his not-boyfriend spent the most time was the easiest place for them to share time together, and Kaiba hadn’t stopped him.

Three weeks since Kaiba threw him out of the manor. Three weeks since he’d screwed up. Joey always thought they would go out with a bang, screaming at each other, things being thrown.

It happened so quietly, Joey didn’t even know if they’d broken up. It felt like a break-up. It hurt like a break-up. They hadn’t gone out to dinner. Kaiba wouldn’t answer any phone calls or texts. Joey didn’t show up to the office. But the weekly D and D campaigns at the Kaiba estate hadn’t stopped. Everyone showed up like usual. Kaiba was civil with Joey if he happened to be present. He would still call to check up on Mokuba, though their conversations were curt, distanced. Joey felt like there was plexiglass separating them. Look, but don’t touch.

He wanted to ask Kaiba if he was hurt, too, but he could never muster the courage. Not with everyone else around. He wasn’t even sure Mokuba was aware that anything was wrong. The kid was rather perceptive for his age, and nosey as hell. If he hadn’t asked, Joey wasn’t about to make him think otherwise. Not until he knew for certain himself.

The elevator doors slid open, and Joey stepped onto the top floor, the items readjusted in his arms. Kaiba’s secretary looked up and him and smiled. “Welcome, Mr. Wheeler. Have a seat. Mr. Kaiba’s in a teleconference right now.”

He wasn’t thrown out on sight? Why Joey thought about that now, and not when the receptionist greeted him, he wasn’t sure.

If they were broken up, Kaiba wouldn’t have let him waltz up to the top floor. He was too careful to let that happen. That, and Joey saw him as the kind of person that burned everything once he was done with it. There was no need for nostalgia.

If they were broken up, Joey shouldn’t have been buying gifts. Yet there were two on his knees, because he liked to live in reverie, and maybe was a glutton for punishment.

The office door opened up after a short while, and Joey’s head snapped up, thinking he would see Kaiba emerge. His suit, Roland, had popped out instead. A thick packet of papers and folders were dropped onto the secretary’s desk. “Mr. Wheeler is here,” she said.

Joey stood up when he heard his name, hands tightening around the box. This was it. Roland would grab him by the arm, drag him out. But the door was opened as he approached. He couldn’t get a read on Kaiba’s faithful suit, but he wasn’t being stopped. When he passed the threshold, the door was closed behind him.

“I was expecting you earlier,” Kaiba said. He didn’t looked up from whatever document he was writing on, but Joey could see the glasses hanging on the tip of his nose. Pushed up, slid down again.

Joey smiled. “What, today?”

“Mm. Perhaps.”

Joey went straight up to the desk and set the items down on the corner of the paperwork. The pen stopped and poked at the box. Kaiba raised his head. “What’s this?”

“Why don’t ya open it?”

The items were pulled closer to Kaiba. The bag was set off to the side. “This is from the restaurant we frequent,” Kaiba said, and a face Joey could only describe as perplexed seemed to wrinkle in his brow.

“Yeah, it is,” Joey said. He dragged a chair in front of Kaiba’s desk just to lean his arms against the edge. “Don’t shake it.”

Kaiba shot him a glare as he tore the tape and lowered the flaps. A square piece of tiramisu laid in the center. “Cake?”

“Yep. That’s the one ya always get,” Joey said. “Ya can’t hide from me that ya got a sweet tooth.”

“After dinner perhaps.”

Joey shrugged. “Didn’t think we’d have dinner. Had to improvise.”

“Is that so?” Kaiba asked. The plastic fork packaged with it was stolen up, the edges of the cake poked at. He sighed, the fork set down. “What is this for, Joseph?”

“‘Cause...it’s Valentine’s Day. Didn’t really know what’s up with us, so I came.”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day,” Kaiba repeated, absent. Intense, scrutinising, questioning eyes peered over the wire-frame glasses, levelled down on Joey as Kaiba leaned back, arms crossed. The blond pulled back from the desk and presented himself, his hands on his knees while the fingers slipped into the holes in his jeans. He regretted not running a brush through his hair, though the bike ride over would have messed it up anyways. Kaiba seemed to take little stock in Joey’s appearance, even if he had a habit of straightening Joey’s collar before dinner.

“It is Valentine’s Day,” Kaiba said. Joey could hear a little ‘ding’ as if he were a game show contestant. Correct answer.

Kaiba’s shoulders loosened, arms unfolded, and he leaned forward, opening up a drawer of his desk. A small, red box, sealed with a black bow was pushed over to Joey. He took it. On a small card under the bow, ‘Joseph’ was written crisp in Kaiba’s scrawl.

“For me?”

“No, for my other Joseph,” Kaiba sneered, sarcastic. “Open it.”

Without hesitation, Joey pulled at the ribbon, catching the card before it fluttered to the floor. When he flipped it over, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ was pressed into the back. The lid was lifted up, and nestled around a small pillow was a silver watch with a blank, black face. Thin, silver arms stood out against it, the second hand sliding around. A single red gem dotted at twelve o’ clock.

“Tryin’ to tell me to stop wastin’ your time?” Joey half-joked. He slipped it off the pillow. The piece was so heavy, so real, in his palm.

“Flip it over,” Kaiba said with a smirk. Joey did as he was told. On the back of the face was an engraving:

 

_My time is yours to waste._

 

“Fuck!” Joey laughed. His body deflated against the chair. “You cheeky bastard.”

Kaiba shrugged, and he stepped around the desk. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, I figured. Now ya can complain when I ain’t on time,” Joey said, and he fiddled with the latch, slipping the watch on. “It’s nice. Really, ya didn’t have to. Not after...”

“Don’t,” Kaiba said with a wave of the hand. Joey flinched. “I got it for you after that happened, not before.”

“Are we okay?”

A single breath. “Well, security hasn’t dragged you out my office yet,” Kaiba said. “Take that as you will.”

“True,” Joey said. He suspected that Kaiba was still a little hurt, but this was his measured way of trying. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then Joey wouldn’t press it. This was good enough. “You ain’t finished openin’ your present.”

“Oh?”

Joey stood up, and he reached over the desk to grab the bag. “Saw this an’ thought it’d look good on ya.”

The bag was placed in Kaiba’s hands, peered inside, and turned upside down to let the folded shirt fall out of it into an awaiting palm. Joey wanted to laugh, he seemed so childish about it. It wasn’t like he’d ever given Kaiba a gift before. “A shirt?”

“Yep.”

“A _silk_ shirt?” Kaiba asked, and held it by the shoulders while his fingers rubbed the fabric.

“...do ya not like it?”

The shirt was pushed into Joey’s hands, and without warning, the suit jacket Kaiba wore was torn off and thrown onto the desk. The locket was delicately placed alongside it. The turtle-neck he wore beneath was yanked up over his head, the glasses dragged along with it. Joey reached over to grab them before they fell to the floor. Kaiba snatched the shirt from Joey’s hands and unbuttoned it.

And Joey stared at the naked torso of his not-boyfriend. With all of the time they had spent together, the physicality between them had been minimal. A little touching, a little kissing. He hadn’t seen this much of Kaiba’s skin, toned and pale as it was.

His hand was flat against Kaiba’s breast, stopping the brunet as he tugged the shirt up and over his shoulders. “Pup...?”

“Uh...I just...”

Kaiba grabbed the errant hand, reeling Joey in and pressing their chests together. To which both Joey’s hands were exploring, feeling the tight muscle. His chin was inclined upwards, a soft kiss planted. A warm tongue ran along the inside of Joey’s bottom lip, not asking for permission to enter. It was still allowed, and what little space may have been absent between their bodies was filled in. All of Kaiba’s sharp contours aligned with Joey’s undefined curves. Hearts throbbed in tandem.

The blond’s curious hands searched out opposite sectors. One settled on Kaiba’s neck, pushing back the longer hairs and massaging tense muscle. The other slipped lower, a thumb brushing over the raised ‘KC’ on his belt buckle, searching for the release on it. He fumbled just long enough that Kaiba’s hand sought after his, squeezing tight before knitting their fingers together.

“Not now, pup,” he said, breathless lips barely breaking their kiss before demanding another. “Much as I want to throw you over the desk.”

“C’mon,” Joey said. “No one’ll know.”

Kaiba nipped at Joey’s lower lip, rough but playful, as he made space between them. Knuckles brushed down Joey’s cheek. “We’d miss lunch reservations if we did that.”

“Lunch?” Joey asked, and he had moved in to keep the air between them warm. The words quiet. He kissed Kaiba again, bruised lips still left wanting. “Ya really were expectin’ me today.”

“Expecting a hopeless romantic on Valentine’s Day?” Kaiba asked, brow raised. He had just enough room to button up the shirt, slapping Joey’s hand away as he tried to touch again. “I enjoy your predictability.”

“Now I wished I hadn’t bought the cake,” Joey said, reluctantly stepping away to go and cover it up where it had been forgotten. Once Kaiba tucked the shirt in, hands flattening out the creases in the silk, he turned and grabbed Joey from behind, his waist hugged, the blond’s back pressed into his chest.

“It won’t go to waste,” Kaiba said, kissing up Joey’s neck.

“Mm...do I get to feed it to ya when we get back?”

“Perhaps.”

“Ya have to take off the shirt again,” Joey said. “So ya don’t get it dirty.”

“What if I want to get it dirty?” Kaiba whispered in his ear. Joey shivered, sure that he felt a tongue somewhere. Kaiba’s hand had wandered down the waist of Joey’s jeans, touching and rubbing over the thin layer of his briefs. Joey suppressed a moan, a shake in his knees. He reached down to try and grab at the flying hand, but was met with only his own flesh, unaware that Kaiba had uncoiled from him.

Looking around, head swimming, Joey found that Kaiba had the locket around his neck, the jacket folded over his arm. He was heading out the door, looking back at Joey, a wolffish grin on his face.

“Coming?” Kaiba asked, coy.

Joey blushed and bit his tongue, nodding.

**Author's Note:**

> Title still a reference to t.s. Elliott’s ‘Hollow Men’. Figured it worked to compliment the other. 
> 
> Smut...is not my forte, I will admit. So if it came off a little jerky, I apologise and hope you enjoyed nonetheless.


End file.
